


An Imperfect Fit

by Subtlety Lost (fishstic)



Series: Winds of Change [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, a strong wind is blowing, but for the first part, it's just Gailana and Cole, shifting Gailana's life around, there may be other characters than the ones tagged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-06 23:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18398681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishstic/pseuds/Subtlety%20Lost
Summary: Of this, Gailana is certain: Humans are mostly blind to anything deeper than the skin.There are exceptions of course. Josephine is quite skilled at knowledge of many things that go beyond skin deep glances. Leliana has made it her life's work to know the intricacies of life--and how to exploit them. Krem... well, he was another matter, one Gailana wasn't entirely certain she knew how to explain.He was like her, she could tell, somehow. In some way, they were the same. But in just exactly what way, she was uncertain. Until Cole tried one night to piece it all together for her. Had he used a simpler phrase, she might have understood. But nothing about Cole was ever simple, and just as well, nothing about Gailana was simple either.Of that she was certain. Of other things, not so much. But she reveled in the knowledge of that one simple thing. Humans were mostly blind, but Krem... she had a feeling he saw more of her soul than he'd point out. He was polite in that way.





	1. A Late Night Chat

Gailana pulled the blankets closer to herself, shivering slightly. A scream had died in her throat before making itself known. Silently she wondered which nightmares were worse, the ones where the Envy demon returned to torment her again, or the ones in the Nightmare’s realm. It was terrifying either way, not withstanding the nightmares she chose to ignore. Human nobles, she reasoned, were almost more worthy of her fear than the demons. At least she was allowed to fight back against demons should they chose to attack her.

A quiet squeaking sound drew her attention away from her thoughts. A squeak not too unlike the nugs in Haven had made. But there were no nugs in Skyhold, and even if there were, there was no reason for them to be anywhere near her room. After a moment, when she was slightly more awake, she noticed that one of the doors to her balcony was open, swaying slightly in the late night breeze.

That must have been what made the noise. _Did I forget to lock them?_ A shiver ran down her spine at her next thought. _What if something is out there?_ Here, alone in her room, she was unarmed and ill-prepared to face anything that might try to do her harm, be it a demon, or a would be assassin.

She sighed, electing to ignore her fears and close the door. It was entirely too cold at night for those doors to be open. She got out of bed, wincing slightly as her bare feet made contact with the frigid floor. As she walked over to the door, she noticed with some confusion a mug of tea sitting on the little table next to her sofa. “What?”

“Drink it, while it is still warm,” the quiet soft voice only gave her a moment’s pause as she then obediently picked up the mug and followed the voice out onto the balcony. Standing there, leaning against the railing, staring up at the stars as though they were his friends and he longed to join them. Cole.

“You made me tea?” she inquired sleepily as she took a first sip from the mug. It was made of Andraste’s Grace, a hint of blackberries, and sweetened with honey. It was her favorite. “Thank you?” There was no real way of knowing without asking if Cole had made it himself, or had someone else make it for her, but either way he deserved thanks for bringing it up. No one else would have known she was awake, or would be awake.

“Thank the Lady Ambassador, she made it, I simply delivered it,” Cole replied turning to face her, leaning sideways on the railing. “You needed me. I could _hear_ you.”

“I’ll be sure to give her my warmest regards, come morning,” Gailana replied.

“Any chance to see the Lady,” Cole replied. “You’re worried because I could hear you.”

“It is a... concerning thought, Cole. That you could hear me above the sick and injured ones you were so concentrated on helping before,” Gailana replied, sipping more of the tea, wanting it to last as long as she could.

“When they sleep, their pain is quieter, easier to not hear,” Cole said. “When you sleep, it’s louder. It’s different, you’re different. More, louder. Drawing closer. Through you come the voices of many. Speaking across vast distances. Talking to you. The Spider is sick, but he will be fine. The Fire can heal as much as she can burn. The Halla isn’t lost. They speak and you cannot hear it.”

Gailana closed her eyes and nodded wearily. “You can hear my family though me?”

“The Spider is the strongest. You are his light. Connected. Family makes the bond more. Twins,” Cole replied.

She furrowed her brow, almost too tired to think about what he might mean. Of course, his twins comment couldn’t be literal, Haselan was two years younger than her. “I’m still tired, Cole. What do you mean by calling us twins? I’m older than him.”

Cole nodded sagely and reached out tracing a finger gently over part of her Vallaslin—if he’d been anyone else she would have slapped his hand away without a second thought. “Twins.”

 _What’s special about my Vallaslin? Surely, he’s meaning to indicate the entire thing not just that small part on my cheek. Well, mine honors Dirthamen. Holder of knowledge, keeper of secrets. His honors Falon’din. Friend of the dead. Twin brother of Dirthamen... Wait that’s got to be it. Dirthamen and Falon’din were more than familial twins, they were also “_ Twin souls.”

“Together even apart. Two of the same,” Cole replied.

Gailana smiled. _Together, even apart._ That was something she had said to her brother in the past, when she’d go off on hunts and he’d have to stay behind to train with Isenama and the Keeper. “Despite what some people say, you’re really nice to talk to, Cole.”

He nodded gently and turned to look up at the sky again, Gailana followed suit, wondering what was so special up there in the stars.

“Talking to you is so much easier than talking to everyone else,” she said once she realized he was waiting for her to continue. “What did you hear that brought me here though? You said looking at me was like trying to count birds against the sun. Was it Haselan?”

“You don’t know,” Cole said, more a statement than a question. “You dream. It’s louder when you sleep. You’re louder when you sleep. Awake you fight, and silence it. It builds, piling up like the snow in the wind against the wall at the bottom of the slopes.” He neglected to point down at what he was using for an example, presumably because he understood that while Gailana wasn’t necessarily afraid of heights it didn’t mean she liked them. “It’s like trying to stop an avalanche, keeping the fighting hidden. Painful, desperate, afraid. It grows, fights.”

He paused a moment, regarding the stars with all the intensity of a cat regarding a mouse. “No one knows how you hide. You can tell them, they would understand.”

Gailana shook her head, assuming he was talking about her nightmares and feelings. “It’s not that simple.”

Cole nodded and closed his eyes. “Afraid. Telling will hurt. Talking will hurt. They can’t know. Not a person. A figure. Spider says you’re wrong. Always trying to be something more than what you are. Trying. Hiding. You don’t have to be more than what you are.”

She sighed. “Cole, I’ve been more than what I am since I walked out of the Fade.”

“It’s part of you,” Cole replied. “Not more than you. Like Spider’s magic. Change. You want them to see. Afraid. Afraid they won’t. Afraid they will, but will hate. Not a person. Not who you are. They do see. Afraid of them. Stopped seeing them for what they are. Seen them for what they’ve become. Never had a real friend before. Trying too hard to protect everyone, only ever talked to people younger than you. The children. Everyone older expects too much. Expects you to be what you’re not, you think. Dirthamen’en’ansal. That is what you are. Ask the Nightingale what it means. You should talk to The Iron Bull. He will understand. The Lady Ambassador loves you. Her love will not change if you tell her.”

 _Dirthamen’en’ansal? Honored of Dirthamen? What’s that have to do with anything? Why would Leliana know? She’s not even Dalish._ "Cole, I’m not sure what specifically you’re referring to at this point. I just woke up.”

Cole nodded and the next words he spoke felt like he was pulling them straight from her soul. “Burning. Pain, fear. What happens in the dark to those deceived. Burning like a knife to the gut. She. She. Her. _Wrong._ It’s all wrong. No one sees. No one _can_ see. For what is there to see that they do not? A stranger among the people. Heralded as a hero. What kind of hero doesn’t recognize their own self in the mirror? ‘My lady’. It’s wrong. Painful. But the face is scarred from telling someone they were wrong. Afraid. Hiding. The armor doesn’t fit, but who would even know?” After a moment’s pause, that allowed Gailana time enough to understand what he meant by all that, he spoke again, “Krem knows how to make the armor fit. Been there. Talk to him if no one else.”

Gailana furrowed her brows but otherwise did not reply. _Krem. The Iron Bull’s right hand man. Why would he know anything about this? He’s just a man, right? What if he doesn’t know what Cole is talking about? What if he thinks I’m insulting him if I try to explain? How would I even explain? What... what if people hate me for... whatever this is? What if Josephine..._

“The Lady Ambassador won’t hate you,” Cole said, as though he was reading her thoughts, which he might have been. “She can help. Pain, like when caught in the avalanche. To hear her say ‘her’ about you. To hear, ‘Gailana’. Gail, Gale. Gale, a strong wind. A wind of change. That’s what you are. That’s what you need. Gale. To hear someone say ‘him’ like your family does.”

The realization of his words hit her like the stone that the protesters in Val Royeaux had thrown at her. _To hear someone say ‘him’ like your family does._ “Cole it’s not that simple,” she replied. “What if... what if my family is wrong?”

“To say him, to hear ‘my son’, ‘my brother’,” Cole said. “Why is it not so simple? To hear someone say what is true.”

“Because... I’m...” she paused trying to figure out what she was saying. _What am I supposed to even tell them? Sorry, but I’m actually a boy? Sorry for lying to you all, but you were all so happy to have ‘her lady herald’ that I couldn’t bear to try making you change. I’m... I look like a girl, I guess this is just easier for you. I can’t. They’ll think I’m being childish. They’ll think I lied to them. But... I am lying to them, pretending like I’m a girl just so they won’t have to be bothered changing their view._

“You are not who the Inquisition believes you to be,” Cole said. “That is a simple thing. They believe you to be Gailana. You are not Gailana. You are Tarasyl’nin. A Gale.”

“Cole,” Gailana said. “That word means storm, a gale and a storm are not the same thing. The word you’re looking for would be Soun’syl. ‘Strong wind.’ But even so, that is not my name. Gailana. Gailana is my name.”

“Named for your own laughter,” Cole said. “Gailana, Gailara. ‘My bell.’”

“Cole, sometimes I do understand why the others find you a bit creepy. Where are you drawing your information from?”

“From you,” Cole replied. “Things you keep close to your heart. The love of your mother, Atisha, it’s held within your name.”

“So you understand why I can’t just pick a new name?” Gailana asked. “It would be an insult to my mother.”

“Ah, but the love of your father is held in his name for you,” Cole said.

“Ellasines,” Gailana replied. “Great secret of mine. They often disagreed about which of my names to use. Babae used to tell Mamae that they should just combine the names and call me ‘Gailelu’, ‘bell secret’. Mamae told him it was a stupid name for a child. It's not quite so stupid now that I'm an adult, but it's still pretty dumb.”

“Did your parents fight much?” Cole asked, seemingly sufficiently distracted from his original mission.

Gailana shook her head and finished off her tea. “No. They compromised, naming my brother El’haselan. Secret weaver. We call him Haselan, Spider, because he doesn’t wish to be a ‘secret’. Vherain isn’t her name, either. Kitten—it’s just a nickname. She is named, Virvenelan. ‘Pathfinder’. Well more literally, ‘way finder.’ She dislikes the name currently, feels like she doesn’t live up to it, since she’s great at mapmaking but terrible at actually finding her way around.”

Cole nodded. “And you?”

“I feel kind of like a secret,” Gailana replied. “But not much like a bell. I haven’t laughed in a long time. Nothing funny about the job the Inquisition has.”

“A secret bell, Elugail.”

Gailana chuckled. “No, Cole that name is even worse than Gailelu.”

“Gailelu. Galileo,” Cole said, as though mixing up sounds to make new names from an old one was just a funny game.

“Cole,” Gailana said quietly, not really wanting to chase her friend off, but still not understanding what he truly wanted here tonight. “I’m tired.”

Cole smiled and nodded. “You are. I woke you so that you could dream happier dreams.”

“I can’t dream anything if I’m awake,” she replied, ruining the effect of the word ‘awake’ with a yawn.

“You won’t be awake much longer, there was extra flowers in that tea,” Cole said. “I did not mean to disturb you for so long. Try to talk to them.”

“To whom? The dreams? The flowers?” She was so tired. She hadn't slept properly in nearly a month, and surely he must have known that.

“Krem and Leliana,” Cole replied.

“It’s not simple,” she said again. “I can’t.”

“It can be simple if you let it,” Cole said, “Pull on the strings of fear and the knot tightens. The only thing holding you back is yourself. Choking fear. Choking trust. At least try.”

“I...” she looked down for a moment, feeling like she was really useless for anything other than fighting demons. “I feel like I’m lying to them. I’m lying to everyone. I can’t... what if they... don’t react well? What if it goes wrong? I can’t... I’m the Herald. The Inquisitor. A beacon of hope. Her Lady Herald. I can’t take that image away from the people. It... it would be selfish to do this for me. To make something about me for a change. It’s not about me. It’s never about _me._ It’s about the image I present to the people. About who I am to the people. _Gailana is no one_. The Herald of Andraste? That’s a symbol bigger than any of us. _She is everything_. What kind of leader would I look like if I can’t even make up my mind about whether or not I’m a girl? I’m nothing. I’m a mistake.”

Cole frowned. That was something Gailana had never seen before, it disturbed her. “A hero. A leader. Your mind is already made up. The clan supported you. Afraid. Terrified of it being about you. Never had anything to yourself before. The oldest child, up to you to take care of the others. Put so much on your own shoulders that they can’t bear anymore weight. In the dreams, betrayed. Lonely. Pained. Hurt because of who you are. Frightened like a child of figures in the dark. Outside the dream, fear. Pain. _What if they don’t want me anymore?_ You are you. Trusted. Loved. Expected to do what’s best. For everyone. _Yourself included._ Let me help you. Let your friends help you. Talk to Krem. Talk to the Nightingale.”

“Cole, all you can do is promise me you won’t tell anyone. Especially not Leliana,” Gailana replied. The spymaster frightened her most of all, even now that she was starting to soften up a bit.

Cole nodded slightly. “You hold it close to your heart. Afraid. I won’t tell what he does not want told. It feels off. Wrong. He. A mistake. It is not a mistake. It is you. Inside you know this is true. You are not a mistake. The body is wrong. The armor doesn’t fit. Krem knows about this. I won’t tell. A Gale. Strong changing winds. Winds of Change. That’s you. Gale. Spider already calls you this.”

Gailana nodded but her words were unsure. “I’m just not sure about any of this.”

“Krem will keep your secret. Been through this before. But before him, ask the Nightingale about the Griffon from among the trees.”

“You want me to ask Leliana about the Hero of Ferelden? You think that will help?”

Cole nodded and smiled slightly. “First, you should go back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you, but it must have been done to change the dreams. The bad ones will not return tonight. That much I can guarantee.” He reached out and briefly passed his hand over her forehead.

“It’s not a problem, Cole,” she replied. _Am I wrong to still refer to myself as ‘she’ even when I know it doesn’t fit?_ “I’m glad we had this chat, you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“By the kitchens,” Cole said, “cold and lonely. There is a kitten. Cat might help?”

Gailana smiled for the first time in the whole conversation. “A kitten! Is it friendly?”

“Friendly, lonely. The servants don’t know. I feed her. She will like you,” Cole replied.

Gailana wouldn’t claim to know how Cole worked, but somehow he did seem to know the right thing to say... most of the time. “What’s her name?”

“Does not translate into Common. Call her Storm and she will answer.” Cole smiled and placed his hand on hers briefly, taking he mug when he lifted it away. “Good night, Gale.”

“I’m not entirely sure whether or not you sleep,” she said trying to stifle a yawn. “But have a good night either way, Cole.” She made a mental note about the cat, hoping she’d remember in the morning despite her current level of exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 'm not positive if it's going to be three parts or four. I think that mostly will depend on my decisions of how soon after Para Você, Todo o Mundo, this fic is set, and how long it would take Haselan to travel from where Clan Lavellan is now camped to Skyhold. I'll likely know by the time I finish chapter two in a few days.
> 
> Also of note, nothing Cole said is necessarily wrong, ~~except for one thing 'the body is wrong', but Gail's correction to that will come up later, if not when she's talking to Krem, then in a different fic~~. Nor is Gailana's narration using feminine pronouns for herself. She is confused still, and tired. There will be a point when the narration changes, but since I've not yet decided in what way her mind will go (between trans masculine, enby, or genderfluid) I'm not sure exactly when the switch will occur. I will try to make the transition as smooth as possible in writing, even if it's not so simple for Gailana.


	2. Wind Beneath Wings

Gailana held her new kitten close as she ascended the stairs up to the rookery. Storm didn’t wiggle or complain, but Gailana was leery of dropping the kitten nonetheless. She wasn’t positive Leliana would actually have the answers she wanted, but she was sure Cole wouldn’t steer her in a false direction. He knew how important this thing was to her, and how afraid talking about it made her. She trusted Cole more than anyone else that she knew, and definitely more than anyone else would like.

“Ah, Inquisitor,” Leliana said as Gailana topped the stairs, nearly startling her into dropping Storm who mewed indignantly in response. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that I was about to come find you.”

“You were?” Gailana asked, shifting Storm back into a more secure and comfortable position and petting her head while doing so.

“I was,” Leliana replied. “I need to speak with you about the Hero of Ferelden.”

Gailana blinked. Sometimes Cole really did actually know exactly what needed to be done and where. “That’s an odd coincidence,” she replied. “That’s exactly what Cole sent me here to do.”

Leliana nodded, seeming to make some kind of mental note as she inquired, “Do you often follow his advice like that?”

“Often enough,” Gailana replied, “to know that he’s never lead me wrong before.”

“Before I share my information,” Leliana said, “I am curious about what Cole sent you here to ask. Was it a specific question?”

Gailana nodded, but instead of speaking motioned toward Leliana’s desk. Leliana walked over to it with her, silently, and sat in her chair. Gailana gently placed Storm on top of the desk, and to her pleasure Storm just laid down and curled up in a little sleepy ball.

“Leliana,” she said, “last night Cole and I had a conversation. We were talking and... honestly, I half believed it was a dream when I woke until I went down to the kitchens and found my new little friend, waiting right were Cole had told me she’d be. While we were talking, he mentioned a Dalish phrase, ‘Dirthamen’en’ansal’, and said I should ask you what it means. Since I know the literal translation, I’d rather you explain what it has to do with anything, and why he said I should ask you about ‘the griffin from among the trees’ presumably in relation to that phrase. I’m pretty sure he meant Mahariel, none of the other Wardens lived near trees, plus she’s Dalish and that probably is the reason he thinks you know that phrase.”

“Please, I think she would prefer you call her Meiriana,” Leliana replied. “First, I’d wager you mean to ask what the phrase has to do with you, since you don’t know for sure that he told you to ask me about her in relation to the phrase.”

Gailana blushed slightly and mumbled, “Well... yes probably do mean that. I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything.”

Leliana chuckled. “Relax, Inquisitor. I know you didn’t mean anything by your wording. Shortly after I met Meiriana, we had an opportunity to talk, just the two of us. Among other things, we discussed the Dalish term ‘Denan’ which I was told is a very shortened form of the phrase Cole gave you.”

_Denan! Creators if he’d just said that from the beginning I would have understood what he was trying to say immediately._

“Meiri told me that it’s a phrase her clan used to refer to people like her—who present differently than their body suggests to an outsider that they should. Who identify as a different gender than they were thought to be when they were born.”

Gailana nodded. Denan was something her clan had called her. _They told me it refers to people specially chosen by Dirthamen to hold inside them a secret about the nature of the soul._ “I understand the phrase Denan,” she said, “I’ve heard it used before.”

“About you?” Leliana mused.

“Among others, yes,” Gailana replied, surprised at the ease of which she could tell Leliana these things that had, only mere hours earlier, frightened her so badly she could barely think about them. It helped that Leliana seemed to already have a point of reference in The Hero. “When I was little, I thought Denan was a type of flower. Once I got older, I learned differently. I was told that I held a secret in my soul, by the Denan, the blessing of Dirthamen, I would eventually learn the secret and be able to share the knowledge.”

“Meiriana explained it that among the Dalish, there are three words for people. ‘Lan’ is feminine, ‘Len’ is masculine, and ‘Lin’ is neutral it is neither. That is how she identified, as ‘Lin’ as neither. And you?”

Gailana nodded slowly, gently petting Storm as she lie upon the desk. “Len.” Again, the ease of which she was able to tell that to Leliana surprised her. It really did help, that Leliana seemed to have a rather accurate frame of reference regarding the Dalish view upon this.

“I don’t remember when I decided that,” she continued before Leliana might have a chance to interrupt with more questions that might not be so simple to answer. “When I was really little I’d wager. I remember having a conversation with my Mamae, wherein I didn’t understand the difference between me and my baby brother or my Babae. We were the same. I think she asked me which word for person I wanted to use. I told her that I am the same as my brother, the same as Babae. Not the same as her and not the same as Isenama, our clan’s first—my cousin. Isenama like Mahariel identifies with Lin.” She frowned slightly. “Creators I don’t know if that was okay to tell you. Isenama isn’t here to speak for themself.”

Leliana blinked and then carefully said, “Could you repeat that last part? You may have just pointed me to the solution to a problem Meiri’s been trying to solve for years.”

“Isenama isn’t here to speak for themself,” Gailana repeated, confused about what part of that could have solved any problem of The Hero.

“Themself,” Leliana said.

“I’m told, ‘they, them’ is the proper pronoun in Common for when someone’s gender isn’t known, or in Isenama’s case, isn’t ‘he’ or ‘she.’” Gailana tilted her head slightly. _Surely Leliana knows more Common than I do? She’s been speaking it longer than I’ve been alive._

“You’re a genius,” Leliana said.

“I am?” Gailana asked. “I mean... thank you?” She blinked and shook her head slightly, trying to focus. Even if her sleep had been more peaceful after the meeting with Cole, it still hadn’t exactly been restful or long. “What did you need to speak to me about?”

“The Hero of Ferelden,” Leliana said.

“Right, but what about her?” Gailana asked.

“Ah, she wrote me a letter,” Leliana said, motioning to the letter that Storm was currently curled up asleep on. “The details aren’t important,” she warned as Gailana started to pick up and move Storm so she could read it herself. “All that concerns you is that she has requested I ask your permission for her to join us here at Skyhold. She believes her Warden knowledge could be useful in dealing with Corypheus.”

Gailana understood a subtle threat when she heard one. Should she attempt to ply her rank and read the letter anyway, Leliana might very well break her hand. She switched subtly to petting Storm more instead. “My permission? I was under the impression that Grey-Wardens didn’t need permission from anyone to do anything. That the Hero of Ferelden mostly just does whatever she wants, consequences be damned.”

Leliana laughed. It was the first time Gailana had heard Leliana genuinely laugh at something, at best she’d normally get just a soft chuckle or that half smirk that could mean either amusement or that she was plotting your death. “You’re thinking of Kallian. Warden Tabris, the Terror of Denerim. No, Ella and Meiriana prefer to do things more by the book. Consequences is sort of their specialty. Or rather, being on the receiving end of consequences for their own—or someone else’s—mistakes is their specialty.”

“Can you tell me more about your adventures with the Heroes?”

“Heroes? A moment ago you were singularly interested in Meiriana. Mahariel as you called her,” Leliana said sounding somehow both bemused and annoyed. “Now you wish to hear about all of them?”

“Firstly, as a point, I call her Mahariel out of respect,” Gailana said. “Unlike some of the humans she probably met during the Blight, I _do_ know how to say her name properly. But she is not of my clan. She is not my lethallin. It would be rude for me to refer to her on a first name basis when she, personally, has not given me permission to do so.”

She waited a moment for Leliana to make some kind of argument or protest, about how she had told her mere moments earlier in the conversation that The Hero would prefer being called Meiriana. Leliana’s permission to do so was not permission from The Hero herself. When no such protest was made, she continued, “Secondly, no one ever speaks of Warden Tabris... Kallian? Or... I’m sure Varric mentioned some others. I know King Alistair was there.”

“Inquisitor,” Leliana said in a tone that stopped Gailana’s speech cold. “This is a change for you.”

“What?” Gailana blinked and bit her lip. Change wasn’t always good. _Creators I hope I’ve not upset her, she’s scary when she’s upset._

“You’re asking questions out of your own personal curiosity,” Leliana said. “Not out of a need to know, or at the request of another, nor to help another. You’re doing so, simply because you’re curious. That is... not the face you normally show to anyone.”

“That’s a lie,” Gailana said, “I ask questions of Josephine all the time.”

“Ah, but you love her, it is only natural that you’d be more chatty with her,” Leliana said. “You’re usually rather... I won’t say quiet, I’ve known quiet. Meiriana was quiet for quite some time. Ella too. You, no. You strike me more as afraid.”

“I think I have every right to be afraid of a woman who could kill me without even blinking,” Gailana replied, almost without realizing what she’d said. Then she sort of froze up for a moment as the realization of her own words dawned on her.

“I did not mean afraid of me,” Leliana said. “Though I want to make this very clear Gailana Lavellan. I would not harm a hair on your head... well unless you ask me to help you style your hair. It may shock you, but I’m actually quite good at styling hair.” Leliana paused for a moment then said, “To be clear, it saddens me to learn that you’re still afraid of me. I’ve come to think of you as something like a friend. If there is anything I can do to help you be more at ease around me, please tell me.”

“And to be fair,” Gailana replied, “I did not mean to admit to being afraid of you. It’s... not that you’re scary... even though you kind of are. It’s just... you always look so serious, and are always talking about the more... ruthless ways to get our enemies out of our way. All shadow and subterfuge and murder. It’s... well...”

“You’ve never seen me relax,” Leliana noted. “You only ever see me when I’m working.”

“It’s the Inquisition, you’re one of my... well, to put it plainly, I’d trust you and Josephine with the entire world, but I wouldn’t trust Cullen with a broom,” Gailana said. “You might frighten me because of your well... how should I put it... it’s not particularly... you that frightens me anymore. It’s your position. You know so much about everyone and work so hard, in the shadows doing things no one wants to do but that need to be done... I know so little about _you_. I think that’s what frightens me about you. But Cullen? The man doesn’t know the meaning of the word no. Anyways, you’re one of my top advisors. It’s no small wonder I’ve never seen you not working. There’s probably not a lot of times that you’re not working. The Inquisition is a busy place.”

“Regarding Cullen, back him against the wall with a dagger to his throat,” Leliana said. “It might sound like being overly dramatic. But if he won’t back off with his flirting, threats are the only other thing he completely understands. Also, I will remind him that I’m still more than capable of... never mind that. You’re too young to hear me threaten a coworker in such a manner.”

“No please, I’m all ears, plus I’m twenty-five. That’s not too young to hear you threaten to cut his...”

“ _Inquisitor you are a professional and so am I_ ,” Leliana warned. “There are children present.” She motioned at Storm, still sleeping peacefully on the letter.

“How careless of me,” Gailana said feigning shock. “Forgetting that my own child is present in our conversation. Though with as much noise as is up here, you’d think she’d have a harder time sleeping.”

“Gailana,” Leliana half-whispered, “Might I ask you something personal?”

“More personal than me admitting to you that I’m not a girl like everyone believes?” she asked matching Leliana’s tone. “Because to tell the truth, admitting that feels simultaneously like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders and like that weight will come back down to crush me with fear at any moment.”

“Not quite that level of personal, no,” Leliana said. “If it helps you feel safer, I will not tell a single soul what transpired of our talk here today. Not even Josephine. Not even Meiriana. Would you feel safer if I continued calling you ‘she’, for now?”

Gailana nodded slightly. “Until I’ve figured this whole thing out for sure, yes. I’m still she until I figure out whether or not correcting humans is likely to result in more injuries.”

“More?”

Gailana nodded and brushed her hair away from her left ear, where a long thin scar crossed the ear and went a little ways both to the left of the ear and down toward her face. “When I was younger, I wandered too far from camp. A nobleman and his two guards, out surveying their lands found me near the edge where their lands bordered the woods. The guards warned me to leave, but the noble told them to wait. Called me forward, asked me if I was one of those ‘wandering healer elf-girls’ he’d heard about at court.

“I told him I was neither a girl nor a healer for someone like him. He warned me not to lie to him, called me a girl again. I told him I was a _proud man_ , and the only thing I knew about healing was that cobwebs can stop bleeding. I guess it made him mad cause he struck out at me with his sword ‘for continuing to lie’. I turned and fled back to the woods. I guess I’m lucky, cause for once, if it hadn’t been for my young sister Vherain and her knowledge of the backwoods, I wouldn’t have found camp before I passed out from the loss of blood. She’d come looking for me. Chastised me telling me that it was ‘her job’ to get lost, not mine.”

“So you decided then that it was a bad idea to correct human assumptions about you?” Leliana asked.

“Do you blame me? I know it was a warning,” Gailana said. “If he’d really wanted to cut my ear off, or hurt me real bad, he would have. I was outnumbered three to one after all. They were armed with heavy swords, all I had was my hunting bow. Sometimes I feel bad for turning tail and running that day, but I don’t think I’d still be alive if I hadn’t.”

“You’re telling me a lot,” Leliana noted. “Why?”

“Because... I suspect that that bird right there in the window is going to repeat every single word to the Hero. If she is truly Denan, like me, then she was trusted with caring for the ravens her clan keeps as messenger birds, like I was. That bird is older and wiser than any you have,” Gailana said. She turned to the bird. “State your name, friend.”

“Night,” the bird replied. “Night.”

“That’s a fine name for a bird such as yourself,” Gailana said.

“Inquisitor,” Leliana said, catching her attention again. “Of that personal question.”

“Ah, right,” Gailana said, “What is it?”

“I was curious about something, you’re Dalish, yes?” Leliana said, “So you must believe in the Creators, not Andraste.”

“If you’re about to ask me about whether or not I believe myself to be Andraste’s Chosen, the answer has always been no,” Gailana replied. “But I nearly lost an eye to those damned protesters in Val Royeaux when I dared say that.”

“I was going to ask if it were up to you, who would become Divine?” Leliana said. “If you could pick anyone at all—”

“You,” Gailana said, interrupting Leliana’s question. “Without even knowing what you were about to finish that sentence with. No hesitation. No doubt. It would be you. _It must be you._ ”

“Why me?” Leliana asked. “I’m honored, but I would like to know the reason.”

“The Chantry is not the establishment it was meant to be,” Gailana said, her voice taking on an interesting characteristic. Not too unlike a wisened old scholar, trying to convey something important to an impatient warrior. “Like the Templars. Like the Mages. Like the Dalish, and the City Elves, and the Grey-Wardens, and Tevinter. Like everything. Like the whole world. It has lost its way. That is the truth of it. The knowledge that one such as myself holds close, never admitting to. It is a knowledge that your Hero must also hold dear.”

“And that’s why it must be me?” Leliana seemed confused to Gailana.

“Yes,” Gailana said, patiently. “It must be you. You’re the only one who could set the Chantry back on its proper course. Cassandra has ideas, but she doesn’t have the drive to make all the changes that are necessary. Under her leadership, things would happen. Some things would change. But it won’t be enough. It would be immediately course corrected by whomever becomes Divine after her, course corrected back to the wrong path. You are the one Divine Justinia trusted most. You are the one who sees what must be done. You are the one the Chantry needs.”

Leliana nodded. “Your words do give me some comfort, Inquisitor. Ah, but I have kept you too long. Your child, what is her name?”

“Storm,” she replied, smiling down at the small kitten, who stretched and yawned on the desk.

“Storm is starting to awaken.”

Night ruffled his feathers indignantly on the window. “The Berry Elf, Lover of Birds, must borrow the Ram-Dwarf.”

Leliana chuckled. “It seems Night has remembered what it was that I forgot to ask. The reason Meiriana truly needs your permission to join us. You were partly correct in saying that the Hero mostly does whatever she wants. She was planning on coming without your permission, to offer her services as the Former Warden-Commander of Ferelden. She lost her way trying to come here on her own. She’s waiting at the ruins of Haven. I wish to send my most trusted scout to collect her. I believe we both would be more comfortable with that if you gave permission.”

“She needs Scout Harding,” Gailana noted.

“Yes,” Leliana replied. “That is whom Night is referring to.”

“How does Night know Scout Harding?” Gailana asked.

“Oh now, that is a story,” Leliana said.

“You’re a bard,” Gailana said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Do not bards tell tales?”

Leliana laughed as she nodded at Night, who flew away to rejoin his ‘Berry Elf’ and inform her of whatever he needed to tell her. “Alright, Inquisitor, you win. I’ll tell you the story of the Blight. Of how I met Meiriana and Ella. Of the other Heroes. And how we met Scout Harding when she was but a child. But you should probably find a chair. This might be a long one.”

As Leliana began the tale, Gailana couldn’t help but feel like she’d discovered something about herself. Winds of change were blowing, as Cole had said, lifting her aloft like a bird and carrying her forward to some conclusion she had yet to draw.


	3. The Bull, The Charger, and The Dragon

It was almost like a secret. Gailana had learned something new about Leliana as the day had gone by, with Leliana telling her the true tale of the Fifth Blight. Well, she had actually learned many things, some of which she had known but with incorrect details. Among the things she’d learned was that deep down Leliana was at her happiest when she was telling stories. That seemed the most important thing, aside from the thing she’d learned about Mahariel that she hadn’t known before. Mahariel, it seemed, was a born leader—and also a mage. None ever mentioned that last fact. It almost seemed like none actually knew it save for the unlikely heroes of the Blight and their companions.

Storm mewed indignantly in Gailana’s arms nipping at her hands. Gailana chuckled and held the kitten up to her face. “What is it, my child?”

Storm mewed and opened her mouth.

“You’re still hungry?” Gailana asked. “You’ll end up eating up all our supplies, you greedy little kitten.”

Storm mewed and put a paw on Gailana’s mouth as though to tell her that she was being rude.

“Alright,” Gailana sighed. “Did you maybe not like the fish I gave you? Should I ask Cole what you eat?”

At the mention of Cole, Storm’s ears flicked and she started purring.

“Just you wait, little one. Cole’s probably up inside the Tavern right now. Lucky for you, that’s exactly where I was heading.” She lowered Storm back down away from her face, cradling her in her arms again.

As she walked into the Tavern, intent on talking to Krem, her courage wavered. Leliana had been very helpful, even kind, about the whole thing. But there was no telling what Krem might be like. She’d talked to him a couple times before and he was always very polite to her. _What if he gets insulted when I ask him?_

To save herself a bit of embarrassment, she decided to hold off on talking to Krem when she noticed Cole motion her over to a table where he sat with a small bowl of water and a place of finely diced meat. She eagerly joined him, placing Storm on the table as she did so.

“Storm dislikes white fishes,” Cole said. “Prefers red meats.”

“That’s good to know,” Gailana said as she watched Storm start picking the juiciest bits of meat off the plate first.

“Spider is coming,” Cole said, with little in the way of a warning.

“Like... my brother? Or an actual spider. I’ve seen a lot of actual spiders in this Tavern and I hate every single one of them,” Gailana replied. She tensed up, prepared to kill a spider if she had to. Even knowing that at the sight of the spider she’d probably freeze up for a moment, just long enough for her to lose sight of it while trying to think of what she had she could squash it with.

“Your twin,” Cole replied. “In less than a score of days.”

“So he’ll be here in less than twenty days? But is it longer than a fortnight?” Gailana tried mentally counting it up in her head, trying to remember how much less than a score a fortnight was.

Cole nodded. “More than two weeks, less than three.”

“How’s he getting here so fast?” Gailana replied. “It took me almost a month and a half to get to Haven. And Skyhold is a good probably three days from Haven.”

“You traveled on foot, he is riding,” Cole said. “You had farther to travel as well.”

“Oh? Did he borrow a halla or a hart?” The thought of her little brother riding either such creature amused her, she’d always known him to prefer solid ground beneath his feet. He even got sea sick on the little boats they used to cross rivers.

“Hart most likely,” Cole said. “Too big for a Halla, don’t you think? You certainly are, he must be too.”

Gailana nodded. “There’s also the possibility that he borrowed or traded for a horse from one of our sister clans.”

“Time is drawing nearer,” Cole said as he motioned toward Krem.

“What?” Gailana asked as she turned to look, but when she looked back, Cole was gone. She groaned slightly and moved to sitting in Cole’s now vacant chair so she could watch both Storm and Krem simultaneously. _Cole you really need to stop vanishing before I can get an answer out of you._

For a while, she watched Storm while keeping an eye on Krem. After Storm had eaten her fill and curled up for a short nap, she found herself with nothing more to do than watch Krem. It was kind of boring, honestly. He wasn’t doing much, just sitting to the side of the Tavern with some of the other Chargers.

Soon she grew kind of tired of just watching him, but she was still afraid of talking to him. _What if_...

“Hey boss.”

Gailana nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Iron Bull’s voice behind her. How could someone so big approach her unnoticed? Perhaps it was just because she was tired. Yeah, that must be it. After all, Leliana had kept her up in the rookery telling her the story of the Blight for the better part of the day.

“You’ve been staring at the Chargers for a while,” Iron Bull said as she walked around and stood in between her and the aforementioned group. He smiled and motioned toward them. “Why don’t you come join us? I reckon you’d like to know who you’re working with, after all. The Chargers are friendly.”

“Oh I...” She started to mumble out some kind of excuse but it all felt hollow and flat. Iron Bull was almost as good at catching a liar in the act as Leliana was, she knew she couldn’t out think or out play him.

“Something’s on your mind?” he asked, taking the chair she’d been sitting in when Cole had still been at the table. “Something about one of the Chargers?”

Gailana absentmindedly pet Storm, trying to think up how exactly to say it. Cole had said Iron Bull would understand, but he’d told her to talk to Leliana and Krem before anyone else. What if there was something Krem had to say to her, that would cause Iron Bull to understand this better than if she tried to talk to him without first talking to Krem?

Iron Bull tented his fingers on the table and then said, “You’ve specifically been watching Krem. Is there something—” he paused as though thinking about the wording carefully. “Krem’s pretty handsome for a merc, right boss?”

Gailana groaned. “I don’t have a crush on Krem, Bull.”

“Then why are you staring at him like you’re trying to figure out what he’d look like without a shirt?” Iron Bull asked.

Gailana shivered slightly, she knew Iron Bull wouldn’t be openly hostile towards her, but she could definitely detect the protective hostility in the tone of his question. Something about that thought struck a nerve with him, and she wasn’t sure what it could be.

“I was thinking about his armor, actually,” she admitted with only a second of hesitation. If this went sour, Iron Bull would probably _never_ let her close to the Chargers. _Then_ how would she talk to Krem like Cole had suggested.

“Is there something wrong with his armor?”

Gailana tensed slightly. Whatever she said next, she knew somehow, could make or break her chance to talk to Krem himself. “There’s nothing wrong with his armor. It’s... rather plain, actually. Is it new? I noticed it’s not as worn as some of the other Charger’s armor.”

“Krem would probably be able to answer your questions about his armor better, boss,” Iron Bull said, “but yes. His is newer. He got your blacksmith to make it, for a price, back before Haven fell.”

For a moment, Gailana thought she was in the clear, that Iron Bull would leave her questions alone and let her talk to Krem.

“That’s not what you’re really wondering,” Iron Bull said.

Gailana blushed in shame. He could read her like a book, she would have been disturbed by that fact, but she knew that he probably wouldn’t have survived long as a Ben Hassarth if he couldn’t.

Iron Bull let the silence he’d created permeate the table for a moment, before he spoke again. “Boss, you look terrified of my questions. That’s not good. Do you think I’m going to get mad at what your answers might be?”

Gailana nodded slightly. She didn’t want to argue with him, and she definitely didn’t want to make him angry by trying to lie about it.

“So you have questions about Krem and his armor, that you think I’m going to get mad if you ask?” Iron Bull said. “We Qunari have a word for people like Krem. Aqun-athlok.”

“What’s that mean?” Gailana asked.

“Well, think of it like this, Inquisitor. Among the Qunari, women are not warriors,” Iron Bull said.

Gailana nodded. “Why not?”

“That’s just how it is, boss,” Iron Bull replied. “But if a woman wants to be a warrior, and shows skill and promise and is good at it. Then is allowed to fight with all the other warriors. Just like any other man. She effectively becomes one of the men. And she’s treated as such.”

“You’re confusing me,” Gailana said.

Iron Bull nodded and said, “Is it the wording?” When Gailana nodded he smiled slightly. “So, like, among the Dalish... among _your_ people. Is there a way to determine what makes the difference between a man and a woman?”

Gailana considered this. How _did_ her clan first realize she wasn’t a girl? Well... she didn’t actually know, she was so small at the time. “When we’re born, it’s determined by the body.”

“But when you get older,” Iron Bull prompted.

“Any number of factors can lead to a child deciding that their parents were wrong... or a young adult deciding that,” Gailana replied, “there’s no age limit on when someone can figure out that they’re a Denan.”

“Denan?”

“It’s a phrase used to indicate someone’s gender identity doesn’t match their body,” Gailana replied.

“Aqun-athlok,” Iron Bull said. “Means the same thing.”

 _So that’s why I’m supposed to talk to Krem!_ “And this is... a recognized thing among the Qunari?”

Iron Bull nodded. “And it’s a respected thing as well. An Aqun-athlok is a man, or if the other way around then they’re a woman.”

Gailana nodded. “And Krem is... one of them?”

“Is that a problem, boss?” Iron Bull asked, the protective hostility back in his voice.

“No!” Gailana protested maybe a bit too readily.

“It’s something that’s got your curiosity piqued,” Iron Bull noted. “And you seem to know a lot about the Dalish version as well.”

Gailana nodded.

“Perhaps, boss,” Iron Bull asked. “Is that because you’re one too?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before Gailana nodded again.

Iron Bull considered that for a moment, then turned slightly in his chair and called for Krem to come over. “Krem, you’ve met the Inquisitor.”

“Indeed I have, Chief. A right fine woman,” Krem said.

“That’s something you’ve got wrong, Krem,” Iron Bull said.

“Well, even if she’s not a fine woman she’s a good leader, Chief,” Krem replied.

Gailana bit her lip. She should tell him, that’s probably what Cole would want her to do. But... what if he didn’t believe her? Or disliked her because of it?

Iron Bull seemed to notice her hesitation to correct Krem, and said, “Krem, you’re not wrong about the Inquisitor being a good person.”

“Then where am I wrong, Chief,” Krem asked then after a second’s pause in which he probably thought about what he said and what there was left of the sentence that could possibly be the wrong thing to say. “Ah, well, in that case, Chief, he’s a right fine man.”

Iron Bull nodded encouragingly to Gailana who took a breath and then asked, “How did you... make your armor fit?”

Krem smiled kindly. “I’ll be right back,” he said before walking off for a moment.

“Probably went to get something to show you,” Iron Bull said. “Don’t worry, Krem’s a good guy.”

Gailana nodded and held out her hand to keep Storm from walking right off the edge of the table. Storm mewed, turned around and headed toward Iron Bull.

“Awful tiny friend you’ve managed to find, Boss,” Iron bull said as Storm tried to climb up onto his arm. “What’s the little fella’s name?”

“Storm,” Gailana replied. Before she could say something else Krem came back and motioned for her and Iron Bull to follow him. Iron Bull gathered Storm into his hands as he stood up.

“This’ll be good, boss,” Iron Bull said. “Just leave everything to Krem.”

“Somehow, that does not reassure me,” Gailana said.

Iron Bull chuckled slightly. “Don’t you trust Krem?”

“Well, yeah, as far as Humans go, he’s one of the best,” Gailana replied. “But I’m still not sure about all of this.”

“What gave you the idea to talk to Krem about this in the first place, boss?” Iron Bull asked. “You didn’t even know that he was like you, but you knew to ask him. How?”

“Cole,” Gailana answered even knowing that Iron Bull found some of the things Cole did rather creepy, and wouldn’t be too happy that she’d been listening to him so closely. “Last night, I... had a bad dream, and when I woke up, Cole had brought me some tea. Josephine made the tea, but he delivered it. We talked, and he suggested I talk to Leliana and Krem about... this.”

“If this came up,” Iron Bull said, “I’d wager the ‘bad dream’ had something to do with it.”

Gailana nodded.

“Then Krem is exactly the man you need,” Iron Bull replied. “Has he told you how he came to be with the Chargers?”

“He mentioned something about you saving his life,” Gailana said. “But that was in a brief talk before... before I went to Therinfall. I can’t remember all the details.”

“Long story short, yeah I saved his life,” Iron Bull replied. He held open the door for her as they left the Tavern, neither noticed Cole behind them until he spoke.

“Raw and hot,” Cole said, causing them both to round on him out of something that was not quite fright, “trying to open it, but just darkness. How bad, how bad? No, done now, no sense worrying. The man they hurt coughs, shaking, but sits up. Eyes wide. No, not a man, a woman, clothes torn. ‘You're safe now. I'm Iron Bull. What do you want me to call you?’”

“Don’t do shit like that, Kid,” Iron Bull said.

“Wait...” Gailana puzzled over the words for a moment. “I think I understand.”

“Doesn’t make it any less creepy just because you understand him, Boss,” Iron Bull muttered. “What do you want, Cole?”

“I’m here to help,” Cole replied. “Am I helping? Putting words to things no one wants to say.”

“Did you stop to think maybe there’s a reason no one wants to say them?” Iron Bull asked.

Cole nodded. “It hurts. But, Gale will _never_ stop hurting unless he has the full picture. Like trying to see himself in a broken mirror, everything cracked, distorted. Nothing is right. If he never learns, if he never hears, he will fear the shadows in the dark for the rest of his life.”

Iron Bull furrowed his brows for a moment, but otherwise did not reply.

Gailana frowned and sighed. “Cole, I know you’re trying to help, but some things just need to be left alone. What you’re prying into isn’t _my_ hurt. Knowing about it, isn’t going to help _me._ Please, leave this alone.”

“But it does help you,” Cole replied. “Your dream, it’s loud, sometimes clawing at you when you’re awake. Pain in the way a nobleman’s hand lingers too long in greeting. In the way that smile might have been a sneer. In the way _he_ looks at you. In the way _he_ says your name. In the way _he_ lingers too long after a meeting. In the way _he_ guides your movements while teaching you to use a sword. ‘ _Can never be too prepared,’ he_ says though you think it’s just an excuse to touch. In the way _he_ compares you to Amell. In the way _he_ brushes against you when showing battle plans—”

“Enough Cole,” Gailana snapped. “I already _know_ all this. Knowing it doesn’t help. You’re not helping right now.” There were precious little things she wouldn’t stand for Cole poking around in, and her fear of Cullen was one of them.

“It hurts because you’re afraid of him,” Cole said, “When the Griffon arrives, let her take charge. If there is a fight, she will win. It is her right.”

“Absolutely not,” Gailana replied. “There will be _no dueling_ among my advisors.”

Iron Bull was strangely silent as he pondered all this, then said quietly, “Cole, I advise you stop talking about this. Not only are you upsetting the Inquisitor, but I believe the ‘ _he’_ that you speak of is watching.”

Gailana noticed Iron Bull give a slight nod up toward the battlements, where Cullen was standing with a couple soldiers. It wasn’t clear from this angle, because the setting sun was behind him, whether or not he was looking at them, or talking to the soldiers. When she looked back, Cole was gone. _I hope I didn’t make him mad, I know he’s just trying to help._ “Krem,” she called out, “Where are we going?”

Krem turned around, noticing for the first time that they had stopped walking, and came back. “Up to your room, if that’s alright, Inquisitor. I have something to show you, and it’s best done somewhere you’re comfortable.”

“What is it you want to show me?” Gailana asked. “I’d feel... better... if you told me first.”

Iron Bull leaned over and whispered something to him at which point Krem nodded and held up the bag that Gailana hadn’t noticed he was carrying.

“I’m going to show you how to properly bind your chest,” Krem said. “It helps. Usually it’s a tactic used for making armor fit better. You know, like the Seeker does, I’m sure you’ve seen her fitting her armor before.”

Gailana nodded. She had, and she’d always been curious about the methods Cassandra used to flatten her chest enough that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable under her breastplate, but she’d never asked, because it wasn’t necessary in her armor. Her armor was generally... not as protective as anyone might actually care to admit they’d like it to be. But she never fought from the front lines. Close combat was difficult with a bow, to say the least. So she’d never needed her armor to be too thick or too strong, if anyone got that close to her, it meant something bad had happened to her friends.

“It helps,” Krem repeated. “To make the armor fit.”

Gailana blinked in slight confusion before realizing ‘make the armor fit’ wasn’t a _literal_ statement. She nodded. “I feel better knowing your intentions, Krem. Thank you for humoring me on that.”

“It’s no problem,” Krem said, “I don’t want to give you a reason to be scared of me. I know,” he paused for a moment readjusting his grip on the bag before continuing, “I know how difficult this can be. Have you always known?”

Gailana motioned for them to continue walking, now that she knew where they were going and why, she didn’t see why Krem should have to walk ahead of them anymore. “I honestly don’t remember,” she replied. “I think I have. The Dalish, though I’m not sure if it’s _all_ Dalish not all clans are like mine, have a word for this. Denan. It’s a short form of a long phrase, we’re considered to be blessed by Dirthamen—our god of Knowledge and Secrets.” She smiled slightly. “When I was little, I remember telling my mamae something. I don’t remember the details specifically, but I remember when she asked me what kind of person I am, I told her I was the same as my younger brother and my babae, not the same as her.”

“And your clan accepts this?” Krem asked. “No confusion or weird looks?”

“People like me, like us, are considered _blessed_ , gifted with a secret about the nature of the soul,” Gailana replied. “But... it’s not like that with Humans. Humans like to trust their eyes more than their brains. Some of them can’t believe things that they can’t see, others can’t comprehend that someone might look different than what they say they are. It’s difficult around so many Humans.”

“I understand that feeling,” Krem said. “Not all Humans are like that, but since you can’t _tell_ without revealing it to them...”

“It’s safer to just pretend that they’re right,” Gailana replied. “Oh, you may need to excuse any mess that might be in my room. I’ve told the servants not to clean my stuff, I have a system.”

“A system?” Iron Bull asked.

“A certain way I organize my things,” Gailana replied. “I collect... ideas.”

“Ideas?” Krem asked.

“You’ll see,” Gailana said as she led them up the stairs to her room. “Though, Josephine says that ‘chaos’ is not a system.”

“She thinks it’s chaos?” Iron Bull asked with a slight chuckle, “This I have to see.”

Gailana shrugged as she opened the door to her room, leading them up. In the daylight, it was much easier to navigate and see what she ignored so often at night. Sitting in stacks around the room, mostly by the desk or behind her couch, were books. Some topped with loose sheets of parchment, others with little statues she’d gathered from some of the ruins and other places she’d been. Her desk was covered in assorted sheets of parchment and canvas, some with half finished sketches on them, others with half finished letters and reports.

“Looks more like you collect books,” Krem said. “Not ideas. Or is it the ideas in the books that you’re collecting?’

Iron Bull walked over to the couch and picked up one of the sheets of parchment. He studied it for a moment then smiled. “If you’re needing advice on this kind of thing, ask Varric. You know he’s into this stuff, right?”

“I know he writes books, I just...” She blushed and shook her head. It was kind of stupid, wanting to prove that a Dalish elf could tell stories too, after all, most of the Clans were more interested in facts than make believe things. “I’m not sure we’d quite agree on what makes a good story.”

“You say that, but this entire stack is nothing but books he’s written,” Iron Bull noted.

She blushed more and mumbled about how it was all just research and idea collecting.

“You don’t think he’s a good writer?” Iron Bull guessed.

“I just don’t like his style,” Gailana replied. “He’s not good with... descriptions.”

“What would you prefer?” Iron Bull asked. “I’m not an expert on books, though.”

“Well anything is better than this description of a ship: ‘The Dragon's Jewels was a big boat. She liked big boats. The pointy bits towered majestically over the water. That roundish wooden part seemed like it could crush armadas beneath its... shit, I don't know, wood. It was the greatest boat in the history of boats,’” Gailana replied.

“You’ve read the books often enough that you have that memorized,” Iron Bull pointed out. “I thought you didn’t like them?”

Gailana hid her face behind her hands for a moment before she heard Krem say, “Stop picking on him, Chief. It’s not fair of you to do that about something that’s clearly bothering him. Just like I don’t go picking on you for sleeping with one of those stuffed nugs I make.” At which point she uncovered her face, happy that Krem was standing up for her when she couldn’t think of any words for her own defense.

“There’s nothing shameful about that, Krem-de-la-Krem,” Iron Bull protested. “You do good work.”

“And there’s nothing shameful about him reading the books so many times,” Krem replied. “Even if he doesn’t like them. Don’t you think sometimes knowing what _not_ to do is just as useful as knowing what _to_ do?”

Iron Bull nodded and relented to that. “I’m sure the Inquisitor doesn’t have all day for us to stand here chatting about his hobbies.”

Gailana shrugged. “Day’s almost gone anyway,” she replied. “What harm could a few more moments do? Besides, it’s kind of nice. I’ve not really shared much of this hobby with anyone. Even Josephine doesn’t actually know what all these books and papers are for.”

“You don’t let her read them?” Krem asked.

“She’s never really asked,” Gailana replied. “She wanted to know if the clutter was necessary, and I told her it was.”

“You know, it’s not actually all that messy,” Iron Bull replied, placing the parchment back on the stack of books exactly where he’d got it from. “All these books are by Varric, and these in this stack,” he motioned to the stack next to him, “are works of Brother Genetivi.”

Gailana nodded. “In that second stack on the right side of my desk, those are collected notes and works by Philliam, a Bard!”

“Some of these have seen better days,” Krem noted as he walked over to the aforementioned stack and took a look. “Where did you find them?”

“Out and about,” Gailana replied. “I collect a lot of these when I’m out doing my Herald thing.”

“Why?” Krem asked as he picked up one of canvases off her desk. “Oh, hey this is actually a pretty good drawing.”

“It’s not finished,” Gailana half-squeaked in embarrassment. _No one_ knew she liked to draw, not as far as she knew. She’d much rather it stay that way. “Please don’t mention that to anyone. It’s embarrassing.” She wasn’t even sure which drawing he’d picked up, but she was positive she didn’t want anyone to see it.

“It’s just a dog, what’s so embarrassing about that?” Krem asked as he put the canvas back where he’d gotten it from. “Is it the Hero’s dog?”

“No,” Gailana replied. “It’s not a mabari, it’s a different breed. That’s a dog that Dorian described to me. Some breed from Tevinter, apparently he wanted one when he was a boy, but his parents said no. His nameday is coming up, so I thought I’d make him a picture of the dog. I... don’t know what people normally give each other for namedays. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You don’t know what makes a good nameday gift?” Krem asked.

Gailana shook her head. “I was always given a new bow or quiver. Haselan, I generally gave him Orlesian white cheese. We’d have to trade for the stuff, so we didn’t get a hold of it very often, but I’d always manage to get him some for his nameday because it was his favorite. My little sister, well, she always asked for a new pair of boots. I don’t think she quite realized that if she wanted new boots she could ask our craftsman at any time and he’d make them for her.”

“We should get the ambassador to throw you a party for your nameday,” Iron Bull said. “A big one! To show you how it’s _really_ done.”

“No,” Gailana replied a bit more firmly than she intended. “I appreciate the thought, but no. I would rather it be a quiet day. It doesn’t feel right to celebrate my nameday in a grand way, I am the Inquisitor. I don’t think it’s wise.”

“Being the Inquisitor is all the more reason to celebrate it with a big party,” Iron Bull said either missing the point she was trying to make, or purposefully ignoring it.

“Again, I appreciate the thought, but the answer is no,” Gailana replied.

He shrugged. “If that’s how you feel, boss.”

“It is,” Gailana replied. “The Inquisitor getting a day older isn’t something that should be celebrated, ideally it happens every day.”

Krem chuckled. “He’s got you there boss, ideally everyone gets a day older every day.” He left the desk and walked over to the bed where he sat the bag before opening it up to reveal, a bundle of long white cloth that almost looked like a really long scarf, as well as some gauze and a couple fastenings. “Okay, Inquisitor. This might sound like a really stupid question considering I’m looking right at you.”

“I get stupid questions a lot, I’m sure it won’t be too bad,” Gailana replied.

“How small are your breasts?”

“What?” Gailana was stumped by that question, as far as things she was not expecting to be asked went, that might have topped the list—if even such a list was possible.

Krem nodded slightly. “Figured that might sound stupid, all things considered. Take off your coat, it’s alright. The Chief’s is here to make sure I don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, that’s his specialty.”

Storm mewed from Iron Bull’s arms, and he sat her on the floor to wander around. “That’s right, Boss. I’ll make sure nothing happens.”

Gailana shifted nervously on her feet. Suddenly this didn’t seem like such a good idea. She hated being without her coat in front of other people. All the shirts she had here at Skyhold that she looked nice in—proper like the Inquisitor should—fit her too well. Accentuating parts of herself she wished they wouldn’t. Even though she hid them under her coat, she still wore them.

“Here,” Krem said, “I don’t do this for anyone, but if it makes you comfortable, I’ll take mine off too. That way you can see what I’m going to be helping you learn to do. Just the fact that you’re scared to remove even just that coat tells me how much this might help you to learn.”

Gailana started to protest that Krem wasn’t even wearing a coat, but much to her surprise he pulled his quilted shirt off to reveal another shirt, this one a simple linen undershirt. So he wasn’t wearing a coat, but he was wearing a sweater. He dropped the sweater onto the bed a short way away from the cloth.

She took a deep breath. He’d held up his end of the bargain, the least she could do would be swallow her fear and hold up her own unspoken part of the bargain. She walked over to the bed and divested herself of her coat, trembling slightly as she did so. It felt wrong, standing there in just her shirt with two men looking her over in her own room. Even despite the fact that she trusted these men with her life and she _knew_ neither of them would hurt her, it felt almost like being naked.

“I think I understand why you wear that coat all the time now,” Krem said. “Do you not have any looser fitting shirts? I can get you some if you’d like. Ones that still look very nice, professional.”

“I don’t, and I would like that,” Gailana muttered, then cleared her throat. “I would appreciate that, Krem,” she repeated trying to sound like she wasn’t completely embarrassed and afraid.

To his credit, Krem smiled. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I’m happy to do it.” Then he picked up part of the bundle of cloth, which Gailana now saw was actually a couple long strips of cloths, about the width of a scarf, but about twice as long and half as thick. “You’re not wearing anything in the way of support under that shirt, are you? I shouldn’t think you are, it doesn’t seem like you’re big enough to need that—no offense meant.”

“None taken, I am, actually,” Gailana replied. “Wearing something for support, I mean. Also, probably too small to actually need it, but I... I feel naked if I don’t.” She blushed slightly and tugged the edge of her shirt out of her breeches. “I need to take the shirt off for this don’t I?” she asked, still hoping she didn’t sound as completely frightened and embarrassed as she actually was.

“Yes,” Krem said, “But we’ll go one step at a time, okay? First I need you to let me wrap this cloth around your neck, only briefly.”

“Why?” Now if someone was going to secretly try to kill her, Gailana assumed it would be a lot more complicated than them asking her up front to let them strangle her. She didn’t see a reason for any cloth to be near her neck if he had no ill-intent toward her. She did however, trust that Iron Bull wouldn’t actually let anyone—especially not one of his own—kill her before Corypheus was defeated.

“Well, I’d rather not rub it on your face,” Krem said, “We need to see if the cloth is going to irritate your skin, and that’s the only exposed skin you’ve got other than your hands, and they won’t work, the skin on your hands is different than the skin on the rest of your body.”

“How so?”

“It’s sensitive to different things,” Krem replied. “You wouldn’t want to put a leather glove flat against any other part of your body, only your hands.”

“I much prefer my gloves lined with fur,” Gailana replied, “But I see your point. What happens if I find the cloth uncomfortable or irritating?”

“The comfort of the cloth is something you’ll get used to, but if you find that it irritates your skin, an alternative involving a linen undershirt can also be tried,” Krem replied as he stepped forward and in a single motion lifted the cloth over her head and pulled it snug against the back of her neck, allowing it to drape down the front of her body by its own weight.

Gailana nodded, feeling the cloth rub against her neck as she did so. It wasn’t uncomfortable yet, nor did it feel particularly irritating. Actually, it felt really soft. “What’s this made out of?”

“I’m not sure, honestly,” Krem said. “I think it was silk?”

“You think?” Gailana asked.

“I don’t know for sure, when I asked your ambassador to help me find a merchant that sells it—and told her what it was for—she suggested I go with a softer smoother cloth than what I’m used to. Thought it would cut down on any chafing,” Krem replied. “Don’t worry, I have enough for both of us, and if you want more, I can ask her to help me track it down again. I won’t even tell her that it’s not for me.”

“And does it?” Gailana mused.

“Does it what?” It was his turn to be confused by a rather obvious question.

“Does it cut down on the chafing?” Gailana asked.

“A bit, actually,” he replied. “Is the cloth okay?”

Gailana smiled and nodded. “It’s really nice. I’m just not entirely sure how some cloth is going to help me.”

“As I said,” Krem replied, “it’s just like how it helps the Seeker fit into her armor easier.”

“I don’t know that I fully understand,” Gailana replied. “She binds her chest very lightly, and mostly only as an added layer of protection against the shock of a weapon clashing against her armor. How is that supposed to help me? I don’t even wear that kind of armor.”

“Well, for starters,” Krem said, “Perhaps you should consider a leather chest piece under your coat. Just because you’re not a warrior, doesn’t mean you can’t still get hit.”

Gailana frowned. Sure, he was telling the truth, but it made her feel kind of stupid that she hadn’t ever considered combing different kinds of armor together for maximum protectiveness.

“Secondly,” Krem said, “The reason taking your coat off bothers you so much is because your coat helps hide your chest, correct?”

At that statement, Gailana nodded though she was still unsure how a few strips of cloth would help.

“When you bind your chest, it becomes smaller,” Krem said, “it doesn’t go away, but it does become less noticeable. I think that’s what you need.”

Gailana sighed. “Maybe it’s just that I’m tired, but I still don’t quite understand.”

“Sometimes you don’t see the point in something until you do it,” Krem replied.

Gailana furrowed her brow and glanced at Iron Bull who was being really quiet.

“I can’t really help you, boss,” Iron Bull said, “this is Krem’s area of expertise. Not mine. I’m more for hitting things.” He smiled slightly though, and walked over. “But what you need to think of isn’t what’s going on. Or even what he’s saying. It’s how you feel. I’ll bet your body shape never bothered you back with you clan because you didn’t need to change anything about yourself for them to see you for who you are. Here, it bothers you a lot, doesn’t it? Because most Humans don’t look past it.”

“Honestly, I’m getting kind of tired of some people continuing to look _at_ it, much less trying to get them to see _past_ it,” Gailana replied.

“Well, if you follow Krem’s advice, and let him show you how _he_ gets around that,” Iron Bull said, “Maybe you can trick them into _having no choice_ but to look at you and see _only what you want them to see.”_

Gailana thought about that for a second and then her eyes lit up. “You’re saying if I do this, I can force them to look at me and have to see me for me?”

Krem nodded. “Now you’re starting to see the picture,” he said. “It might not immediately change everyone’s opinions of you, but it will help them have no choice but to look at you, no matter their opinion or...” he paused and started muttering like he was trying to think of the right words.

“It’ll make Cullen have no choice but to look at _you_ instead of just your body,” Iron Bull offered.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Gailana said, “But Creators I’ll try it if you think it might help even a little.”

“You know, if you have such a problem with him, why don’t you just fire him and get another commander?” Iron Bull asked.

“Are you volunteering?” Gailana replied.

“No, but from what I’ve heard of The Hero of Ferelden, if that’s the ‘griffon’ Cole mentioned is coming, she’s more qualified,” Iron Bull replied. “Hell, even the Seeker is probably better qualified.”

“Cassandra isn’t a leader, she’s a do-er,” Gailana replied. “She wouldn’t take the position even if it was offered to her.”

“So what’s your problem offering the position to The Hero then?” Iron Bull asked.

“Leliana would kill me,” Gailana replied, quite reasonably in her opinion. She wasn’t entirely sure if Leliana had suggested Mahariel for the role before or not, but she was sure that Mahariel wasn’t coming here to take over Cullen’s job. Though, if she tried, there probably wouldn’t be anything Gailana could do to stop her.

“That’s probably fair,” Iron Bull replied. “She can be kind of scary in a really hot way.”

“Don’t let the Hero hear you say that,” Gailana replied.

“Are you feeling okay to keep going?” Krem asked, lifting the cloth off Gailana’s neck. “If you need more time, I can always show you this another time.”

“No, please show me now,” Gailana replied. “I appreciate the distraction. If this is really actually going to help me, I want to try.”

“Do you want me to show you what my binding looks like, before I teach you to do your own?” Krem asked.

“Not if you’re not comfortable showing me,” Gailana replied. “You don’t need to give yourself any discomfort just to try to show me something.”

“It’s alright, Inquisitor,” Krem said. “I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I wasn’t comfortable doing it.”

“Are there other ways to go about this?” Gailana asked. “Like some way to _actually_ change the body, or do we have to make do with tricks.”

“There is another way, but it involves magic,” Krem said. “If you want to go that route, your on your own. I’m not letting that magic anywhere near my body, and I wouldn’t even begin to know where to look for someone who specializes in that legitimately. Trust me, even though I won’t do that myself, it’s definitely not something you want to trust to anyone less than reputable.”

Gailana nodded. “I was simply curious about whether it’s possible,” she said. “I’ll...” She started to unbutton her shirt but stopped for a moment. “Where’s Storm?” The kitten hadn’t given so much as a single meow since Iron Bull had set her down, and now that had Gailana worried that maybe her little friend was stuck somewhere.

“The kitten?” Krem asked. “She’s curled up on the pillow that’s on the floor next to your bed.”

“Oh, alright then, I was concerned because she was being so quiet,” Gailana said. “Didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep.” She went back to unbuttoning her shirt. If she didn’t think to hard about it, then she could probably do it without freezing up. Once she’d dropped the shirt onto the bed, she crossed her arms in front of her abs, feeling very vulnerable.

Krem nodded and removed his own shirt. For the first time, Gailana saw the cloth crisscrossing across his chest. “Let me show you, the difference it makes.”

“You don’t have to take them off,” Gailana protested immediately.

“I’m not planning on it, but look,” he said, turning sideways. “You can’t even tell, can you? That my chest isn’t flat, I mean.”

Gailana shook her head. “No, surprisingly I can’t. Though, I suppose that’s not actually surprising to you. This is what we’re going to try to accomplish with me, then?”

“It may or may not be so easy with you,” Krem replied. “There are risks to binding your chest like this. If the bindings are too tight, it could cut off your blood flow, bruise your chest, or even break a rib. If they’re too lose, then you might as well just be wearing a shirt.”

She should have known it wouldn’t be quite as simple as just ‘warp a cloth around until flat’ but hearing the risks gave her a moment of pause. Two of those things, left unchecked, could lead to death. Still, if it got even just one of the Humans to treat her with a little more respect and recognize the man that she knew she was, then it would be worth it. _When will I be comfortable enough to call myself ‘he’? It’s so easy for my clan, for Krem, for Bull, and Cole. Why can’t it be easy for me? I know ‘he’ is the right one. ‘He’ and ‘Len’ mean the same thing, more or less. So why does ‘he’ feel like it’s not a perfect fit?_

“You’ll need to take your,” he frowned, “Maker I haven’t worn one in so long I forgot what they’re called.”

Gailana nodded and took her bra off, now she felt super exposed and blushed slightly in embarrassment. Her hands trembled slightly as she dropped the bra onto her bed. _I trust Krem._ Though whether the thought was more to reassure herself that nothing bad would happen, or a reminder of what she had to lose—the trust she had in this man—she wasn’t entirely sure.

Krem nodded. “The binding can be applied over the... support, but it would make it lumpy and uncomfortable,” he explained. “I’ll start wrapping it now.”

Gailana held her arms out to her sides as Krem approached her with the outstretched cloth and began wrapping it around her, not too unlike a healer bandaging someone’s bruised ribs, except this was a lot softer and more comfortable than the rough linen bandages and gauze that healers used. A lot looser too.

“Is it too tight?” Krem asked, pausing for a moment.

Gailana shook her head. It was comfortable, a bit tight compared to the bra she normally wore, but not too tight to be comfortable. She wasn’t too sure that she wanted to look down and see what she looked like.

“Chief, get me another one off the pile,” Krem said.

Iron Bull walked over and handed Krem another of the long white cloths.

“How many of those are you going to need?” Gailana asked.

“Only the two,” Krem replied. “To start, you shouldn’t need a third.”

Gailana smiled and nodded. “This doesn’t seem too difficult,” she said. “Just wrap it around and make sure it’s not too tight, right?”

“That is the basic idea, yes,” Krem replied as he picked up two fasteners from the bed. They looked to just be metal clips like you’d find on the back of a broach. “Then you secure them in place. I like using these, but some people prefer to just tie a knot in it. Personally, I find that if you’re active as a soldier, or in your case as the Inquisitor, then the knot just works lose over the day and the bindings can slip off.”

“What’s to stop the fasteners from breaking in the same way?” Gailana asked.

“Well, theoretically nothing,” Krem replied, “but I’ve never had one break and I’ve been doing this for years.”

“Then I trust it,” Gailana replied.

“Alright, it’s done,” Krem said, he took a step back and smiled. “You look nice.”

Gailana nodded. “I’m a little scared to look and see what I look like.”

“That’s alright,” Krem replied. “I brought an extra shirt. You’re a bit smaller skinnier than me, but it should fit you.” He walked over to the cloth pile and from the bottom of it pulled out a rolled up linen shirt, he unrolled the shirt and held it out to her. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Gailana smiled blinking back a couple stray happy tears from her eyes. _He’s being so nice!_ She wasn’t used to any human being nice to her just because, especially when she hardly ever actually talked to them. It had taken a while to get even Cassandra to be nice to her, but Krem was being so nice and they rarely talked. “I don’t mind. I’m really glad. It feels like... like my shirts won’t fit now.”

“They’ll be a little loose in the chest now,” Krem replied. “Oh, and you have to take this off before you go to sleep, sleeping it in is not advisable. You could stop breathing in the middle of the night... it’s not fun, trust me. Take it off before you sleep, and for the first few weeks I wouldn’t suggest wearing it for longer than a few hours at a time.”

“Why?” Gailana asked as she put the shirt on. It was a little loose, but in just the right kind of way that it didn’t cling to her skin, nor hang awkwardly around her.

“It can mess up your breathing if you wear it too long, it constricts your chest, which is where your lungs live, you know,” Krem replied. “Until your body gets used to it, you’ll need to take several periods of rest from it during the day, to let your lungs work all proper like.”

Gailana smiled. Krem was doing his very best to both help her _and_ make sure she understood the risks. She needed to make it a point to talk to him more, just in general. He was a good man. He’d be a good friend too if she could let him. For a moment, she wasn’t sure what to say, but she did notice that Iron Bull had started a fire going in her fireplace, so there was more light in the room.

“Do you have a mirror?” Krem asked. “To see what you look like? I mean, only if you want to of course.”

“I do, actually, it’s in my closet,” Gailana replied. “I moved it in there earlier, before I came to the Tavern, because Storm kept attacking her reflection in it and I was afraid she’d knock the thing over on herself.”

She headed over to the closet and retrieved the mirror, setting it up so that it was in the light of the fireplace and took a look in it.

Standing there, before the mirror, before herself was... well, it was her. But, she didn’t look quite like herself. She looked... different, nice. She smiled at herself, turning slightly to see. Her chest looked so flat under the shirt, under the binding, it was so _different_ , so much better. It was nice, to look in the mirror and see... well, to see _him_. To see, _Gale_ instead of Gail. It wasn’t a perfect look, her hair had grown out too long in the months since the Conclave. She hadn’t had time to cut it. Still, she was happy.

“It’s not perfect,” she told Krem. “But it’ll get there.”

“You’d be surprised what a nice haircut could do for your look, as well,” Krem replied. “Well, Inquisitor. What do you want me to call you?”

“Gale,” he replied. “I am him. I am Gale. Don’t tell anyone, though. If they don’t already know, then it’s because _I_ have yet to tell them, and please let me decide when the time is right to tell them. But yeah. Gale. That’s what my brother calls me. Gale, O Dragão! Gale, o lutador de dragão!”

“That sounds a lot like ‘Dragon’,” Iron Bull noted.

“That’s because it is,” Gale replied. “Gale, the dragon. Gale, the dragon fighter. That’s what my brother calls me. Though once he finds out we slayed that dragon that was terrorizing Crestwood he’ll have to change it to ‘o matador de dragão’, ‘the dragon slayer.’”

“Why?” Iron Bull asked. “I mean, that’s a pretty badass name.”

“I escaped from a dragon when I was younger, the one time my clan camped at Sundermount near Kirkwall,” Gale replied. “It was at some mine, if I remember correctly. From what I hear, the Champion killed it. Wish I had been there to see that.”

This felt nice, it felt right, to be talking to her friends. _No, that part is wrong, I’m comfortable admitting that to myself._ To be talking to _his_ friends—t _hat’s better, I like that better—_ sharing stories with them late in the afternoon, with nothing better to do. It felt right, like it always should be that way. It wasn’t perfect, something still felt like it was missing, but it felt right at the moment, and that was all he could really ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> partly based on personal experience


End file.
